


three things needed

by irabelas



Series: measurements [2]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, FWB, Large Cock, Plot With Porn, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Streetkid V, Wall Sex, We’re not there yet, but not in that order, establishing a sort of friendship, it’s real sad about jackie hours, talking it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irabelas/pseuds/irabelas
Summary: “In my experience, only men think with their dicks. Glad to see you’re evening out the playing field, V.” Johnny speaks as he appears behind Placide in a series of glitches. “I gave it a week, remember?”--An unsteady truce, a gig and a proposal.
Relationships: Placide/Female V (Cyberpunk 2077), Placide/V (Cyberpunk 2077)
Series: measurements [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086200
Comments: 24
Kudos: 99





	three things needed

**Author's Note:**

> okay i couldn’t stop myself from continuing on w/ some more Placide porn. so here. maybe even some plot and overall theme? probably good to read the first installment in the series before this, but u do u. ok enjoy.

Six days and five hours later, you hunch behind a shipping container, gun in hand. 

Wakako had sent you on yet another gig - Maelstrom had gotten their hands on some delicate information that the client now wanted back. It was being held ransom, so sure enough, several guards and turrets were posted up in case someone came looking for it. Or rather, _when_.

What you needed was a way into the main building and then just to sneak in, get the info and leave. Quietly, safely. 

Nothing was ever safe with Maelstrom, though. They were unpredictable - the chain of command could shift whenever, their priorities nowhere but within themselves. That they were this organized meant _something_ was up. You were pretty deep into the complex now - a factory that the Maelstromers had taken over and made their own. Security was tight - Wakako had said as much, and also mentioned that it was a shit job. Paid good, though.

It couldn’t be that hard, you had reasoned - in, out, cash fucking flow. Afterwards, the plan was to knock a few beers back after a job well done, take a hot shower and fall headfirst into your bed. But first you needed inside. 

Watching the two guards and their designated paths they were following, timing them, trying to find a window to sneak past them and the turrets you felt a light tinnitus started ringing in your ears. Kiroshi optics flickered for just a moment. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the buzz.

When you noticed something was wrong it was already too late.

Hands grabbed you, dragging you to your feet and pushing you against the wall face first. The force was so strong that it made you groan. The hacking stopped and so did the ringing - you were left with the feel of cold steel pressing against your neck and an iron grip on your arms. 

“We meet again.” His voice sent a chill through you - deep and dark, tinged with the Haitian accent. Your eyes flicked open, body jolting at the sound. It sent a chill through you - the warm scent of oud filling your nostrils again, the one that had lingered on your skin for hours after your last meeting. 

Head craned back as much as you could, you sent daggers over your shoulder. “Would you stop?” You gruffed at him, wiggling in his grip. “Honestly!” 

The familiar eyes scanned your face; his heavy coat on his shoulders, the split lip you’d awarded him last time wasn’t even fully healed yet - which meant you got him _real good_ that time. You struggled against the grip he had on you - but Placide wasn’t yielding. 

Neck hurting from the strain a bit, you let your head fall against the wall with a loud sigh. “What are you doing here? This is Maelstrom turf.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Placide drawled, looking up at their graffiti that was plastered all over the wall you were currently pushed into. As if weighing his options, he fell quiet for a moment, before finally lowering the machete at your neck.

“Why should I tell you?” He said as he sheathed the blade, letting you go. You turned around, eyes narrowing when they inspected him. Gun and machete at his side, as usual. But he looked less… inconspicuous, as if he had toned down the VDB vibe somewhat. That had failed though, as it seemed to radiate off him anyways. 

There was something he wasn’t letting on. You didn’t end up this far into enemy territory by _accident_. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” 

“No.” 

“Okay, fine. Me first. Gig to get back some information a client finds... compromising.”

“How do you know that I’m not here to protect them?”

“Maelstrom doesn't strike me as the type of company you’d keep.” You rolled your eyes at him. _Please_ , like the Voodoo Boys would leave the net for anything or anyone but themselves. “No,” you continued, brows furrowing, knowing that he was there for _some_ reason of his own, “I think you’re following me.”

He snorted. “You flatter yourself, merc.”

“If you’re not gonna tell me - leave. You’ll end up as target practice if you don’t.”

Placide let out a sound, and it was almost a laugh. “What would you have done if it hadn’t been me that found you?”

The five guards you’d already knocked out begged to differ from his judgement of your skills. You shrugged. “I would have _managed_.”

The two of you stayed silent for a moment, sizing each other up.

Placide finally broke the silence, flicking a thumb towards the factory behind him. “You going in there?” 

Your eyes swept from Placide to the Maelstrom hideout. Whatever this information was he wanted it too, so was he really trying to… strike a deal with you?

“Thanks, but no thanks.” You shook your head at him, pushing past him with your shoulder and approaching the same vantage point you’d been in before, “‘sides, you don’t really got a rep for keeping me alive.” 

You shivered a bit, picking up where you left off with, surveying the area. You wouldn’t let it on but he had spooked you, sneaking up on you like that. It was like Placide always caught you at shit opportunities. Maybe he was looking for them? It almost seemed so. The jobs missive hadn’t said anything about any hackers on sight, which meant you hadn’t scanned the area for them. That Placide would show up and gonk everything up wasn’t part of the plan - he’d hacked you and overpowered you just as easily as last time. It stirred something not wholly unfamiliar in your gut - a sense of wounded pride and the same hotness slicking the insides of your thighs. But _he_ didn’t need to know that. 

“Unlike last time I’m not coming off being shoved into an ice bath and jostling around the Blackwall.” You continued on, eyes trained on the patrol that was now passing by far below the two of you. You cracked your knuckles, looking back at him. “I was feeling preem ‘til you showed up.” 

Placide had taken to leaning against the wall, eyes glowing as he scanned the area. Your eyes trailed down his body, watching his chest rise and fall with his breath and your mouth grew dry. You remembered what he’d said last time, what he’d been thinking about since - 

“Mhm,” Placide crossed his arms over his broad chest. Something told you he had read your mind by the smirk that now adorned his features. 

Well, he hadn’t tried to kill you _just_ yet. He looked so intimidating like that - you were crouched down, peering through the railing, and he stood high above you, looking down at you with a look of pure fucking confidence. Fuck, why did he need to have been so rough with you.

“In my experience, only men think with their dicks. Glad to see you’re evening out the playing field, V.” Johnny speaks as he appears behind Placide in a series of glitches. “I gave it a week, remember?”

You rolled your eyes at him, sighing. 

Last time had been a one time thing, and you’d told _both_ of them that much. Placide showing up hadn’t really been high up on your list of possible outcomes for this job. Making up your mind, only because Wakako had said it really was a shit hit, you looked for words that weren't outright _yes_. That would’ve pleased the fucker too much. 

“Don't get in my way. It’s _my_ gig.” 

You made a gesture for Placide to follow as you shuffled to the side to give him more room. When he finally crouched by your side, you started: “There are two turrets out front that need dealing with. Two guards that patrol continuously. There’s never an area out of sight. Blindspots on the roof but you can’t get _in_ that way-”

“Your reconnaissance?”

“Yes.”

Placide hummed. “Do better.”

“And what reconnaissance do you have?” You shot him a nasty look, but Placide didn’t reply, and you went on, feeling smug. “Fucking _zilch_ , that’s right. So either you go with what I have or you’re on your own.”

“Fine. What’s the route?”

“Takes approx five minutes for them to patrol the area in total - hacking the turrets shouldn’t be too hard. Manage that, ‘runnerboy?”

He gave you a disapproving glance, but still his optics lit up and surveyed the area. “Deactivation?”

“Yes, as quiet as possible.”

“You managed that? Being quiet?” His voice was barely a whisper by your ear now, timbre low in his chest. 

Asshole. You wanted to punch him but settled for elbowing him in the side just for good measure. “I got this far without raising the alarm.”

“Mhm,” Placide hummed, seemingly unphased by your assault on his ribs, not taking his eyes off the scene, “was wondering why the place was so quiet. Maelstrom’s never quiet.” 

“All the better for us if they’re being loud in there. Harder for them to hear us coming.”

“Inside then. How’s the security?”

“Tight. That’s all I know.”

“The turrets are taken care of.” Placide’s eyes glowed more intently, and you watched as both the turrets stopped in their pre-programmed tracks. “As are the one’s inside.”

You nodded, pulling out your gun and checking the ammo. “Guy coming ‘round the left corner’s mine. You do… Voodoo Boys things.”

Placide snorted, seemingly offended. It made you crack a smile, watching him getting his panties in a bunch. He’d make do with what he was given, whatever, he was the one who butted in on your operation. 

You were just about to drop down the ledge when you turned back to Placide - before, when he’d sent you to the GIM, you’d trusted him because you _had_ to. He had set the bar, the conditions for your untimely demise in that cinema. And now you were basically cozying up to the Voodoo Boys second in command, letting him help you in decisions regarding your livelihood. 

Had anyone told you that a week ago you’d laugh in their face. 

“Don’t-” you took a deep breath, eyes narrowing on him, feeling like you had to say _something_ foreboding to him, “don’t fuck this up for me.” 

Feet hitting the ground almost soundlessly, you quickly made your way forward, going from cover to cover. The guard would pass you right by the corner. All you had to do was wait a moment, only two quick little clicks and he’d be toast. 

Yet the shuffling of boots alerted you much earlier than you’d planned. 

Shaking off the initial shock - it didn’t matter - you’d get him quicker, and so you could get this over with quicker. 

The Maelstrom scout passed, boots kicking up dirt as he waltzed past you. You grabbed him, arm locking around his neck - his struggle against unconsciousness was a losing one. He had finally went limp in your arms when--

“Hey Charlie, it’s time-”

You turned around as quick as you could, eyes meeting with the red cyberoptics of the other Maelstrom guard. She was supposed to be around the other corner - out of sight and especially not _inside_ the building. Your mouth opened as did hers, her hands instinctively going to the gun she was holding, finger on the trigger. 

Time didn’t stop - instead it all happened at once. You let go of the man in your arms, hand going for your gun as she doubled over with a shout, grabbing at her optics. Instincts took over and you sprang towards her, pulling her out of the doorway and swinging the butt of your gun at her temple. Her hands scrambled to her head and you swung again, this time at the nape of her neck, and finally she passed out with a groan.

Fuck, someone must’ve heard that. Your heart raced in your chest, pulling the woman against you - fuck, you needed to hide her, no, _both_ of them- 

Behind you, you heard steps approaching. You whipped around, arm still locked tightly around the Maelstromer.

Placide was gathering up the man you’d left carelessly on the ground, slinging him over his shoulder already. Instantaneously, you relaxed.

He looked like the epitome of ease, tall and intimidating. His voice was low as he made his way over to you, speaking when you were just a few strides apart. Positively smug, he looked you over, halfly holding the knocked out woman, halfly shoved into the wall. “You manage?”

“I managed,” you gritted your teeth, grabbing the woman and dragging her towards a conveniently placed dumpster. “Just.... fine. Without you.” 

He hummed again, amused at the situation as you struggled to get the woman over the railing of the dumpster. “I can see that.” 

You glared. “Shut up.”

Picking yourself up, dusting off your hands, you motioned towards the door. “Door’s open. Guess they were changing the shift now.”

“A way in. One less thing to worry about. Let’s go.” Placide made to move towards the door, but you held out an arm to stop him. 

“I'll go first.” You said, catching Placide’s eyes. “I’ll ping you when it’s secure.” 

Placide folded his arms over his chest, raising a brow as he looked down his nose at you. “Want me to just sit pretty for you out here, girl?”

“Whaaat, don’t trust me?” You made a mock pout at him, before slipping past him and crouching on, still talking, “not as easily spotted as you are, big guy.” 

Sneaking past the guards inside was easy - they were slacking off, relying on the turrets for alerts of any intruders. Bad thing for them that they were all outta commission. 

If there was one thing you were good at - it was sneaking. No one seemed to have heard the commotion outside. You got up on the second floor with ease, seeing an armed guard looking extremely serious about his job guarding what must’ve been the resident office.

You quickhacked a light, waiting for the guard to get distracted. As he shook the confusion off, you inched closer and took him out. You hid his body hastily before hurrying inside the room. It was small and cramped - wholly taken over by the Maelstrom aesthetic. It looked like it was some kind of sick bay, a ripper doc’s chair in one end of the room. Blood stained the plastic covers hanging around it. Just beyond it the soft light of tech filled the room. You hurried past the blood, grimacing at the… parts, casually strewn about the makeshift medical facility. 

Johnny appeared just as you started clicking through the files on the computer.

“Wouldn’t trust him,” Johnny was shaking his head at you. “He’s hiding something. C’mon V, ain't it a little too convenient that he was here? How far is this place from Pacifica?”

“It stinks, yeah.” You shrugged. It didn’t feel right to have to justify your actions to Johnny - he really was just there for the ride. 

“I know what you're thinking and look, _look-_ ” Of course he did, he was in _your_ brain. Johnny paced around the room, just in your line of vision. “I’d rather you not get yourself killed until I’m outta here. Working with the VDB’s already got you fried once.” 

“He won’t try to flatline me.” That was, if Placide needed whatever it was as bad as you suspected. You had reached an uneasy truce with the second in command. You weren’t over the whole betrayal thing just yet, though. “And I’ll kill him if he tries.”

But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like having a partner along. This was… you’d missed it. It reminded you of doing gigs with Jackie - a big beefy dude and you, pushing your way through heaps of shit to just climb a bit higher in the social ladder, making do as things went to shit all around you. 

“V, don’t get sentimental. Jackie’s-”

“Don’t even think about bringing him up, Johnny.” You lashed at him, voice a bit louder then you’d planned, fingers pressing into the keyboard harshly.

Johnny fell silent for a moment. He felt what you felt - the surge of rage and sadness that panged in your chest at the mention of Jackie. Working alone had done something to your nerves. Sure, you had Johnny, but he was more like an extension of yourself. You and Jackie had been friends, a team that worked together like clockwork.

The hole Jackie left - not a soul would be big enough to fill it. The realization that you’d felt a hundred times over already hit you again like an oncoming truck, heart sinking. 

Johnny grunted, not relenting in his judgement of you decisions. “Nothing’s ever just chance with the VDBs, you should know that. You’re flattering yourself if you think he’s just here for some pu-”

The door handle pulled down abruptly. Both you and Johnny stopped in your tracks. Your hand flew to your gun.

Fuck, they’d have no chance of _not_ seeing you. 

You were already getting ready to start blasting the moment they appeared in the doorway when, for the second time that evening, large hands grabbed you and pulled you backwards. The rustling of the plastic was all around you in an instant. Your balance was wholly lost as you scrambled for purchase against the large warm body behind you. 

About to start struggling, you stilled when a thick finger pointed out beside your head at the open window. By your ear, Placide hushed you. How did he even get up there?! You hadn’t even heard him follow you, least climb up a fucking window.

The door opened with a bang. It almost made you jump, but Placide held you against him tightly. He wouldn’t be able to move a lot, the space felt tight for you, and you barely reached his shoulder. Your hiding place was a small medical supply cupboard. It was dark enough that the two Maelstromers entering didn’t suspect a thing - but if a breeze from the window rolled by and tugged at the thin plastic covering you’d be exposed and flatlined within seconds. 

One of them reprimanded the other. “Stop whinin’ - he only wants us to grovel a bit, then he’ll be back to normal.”

Placide’s mouth was just by your ear now, voice even as he spoke. “Calm down.” 

You hadn’t noticed but you were still breathing hard. 

The two Maelstromers continued on their conversation, walking up to the computer you had just started tinkering with when Placide had grabbed you. 

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” The other one whined, voice jumbled from some cybernetic implant in his throat. “Doesn’t mean this doesn’t suck.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ hate sitting around for nothing. Can’t wait to get out of here.”

“On my count,” Placide’s voice was just barely a whisper now as he held up his hand in front of you, holding up three fingers. For just a moment, his lips lingered by your ear longer than they needed to be. 

The soft rustle of the curtain was completely lost as you sprung forward and grabbed the one on the left, squeezing the air out of him. He clawed at your arm valiantly until he completely lost his breath. You dragged him with you backwards into the medical cupboard you and Placide had holed up just moments ago. You let your victim go unceremoniously and Placide followed, throwing his victim into a heap with yours. 

Without missing a beat you turned to him. “How did you get up here?”

Placide crossed his arms over his chest, letting you steep in confusion a moment longer, until he finally replied. “Voodoo.” 

You blinked, once, twice, and then, you glared. “Very funny.”

About to continue with the ransacking of the computer, it hit you. “W-were you here, before… when I-?”

Placide nodded, but made no comment on the conversation you’d had with Johnny. Sometimes… it was just easier to talk back at him verbally then _thinking_ up a reply. Placide gestured towards the computer. “Nothing you are looking for on there.”

“On to the next one, then.” 

The other rooms on the floor didn’t have anything interesting as far as the job went, but Placide spent a good minute scanning the rooms anyway, much to your annoyance. The two of you headed up to the third floor, reaching a long corridor with nowhere to hide from spotting. You were just pausing for a moment, listening intently for any signs of movement before rounding the corner - when the camera spotted you. 

“You said you’d gotten them all!” You barked at Placide, who looked as confused as you felt. The alarms started ringing. 

“Fuck!” Placide cursed, eyes alight and scanning the tech. “It’s on its own connection.” 

Heavy, steel boots started moving all around. Every Maelstromer in the vicinity had been alerted of intruders. Shouts echoed through the building like fire spreading in gasoline. 

“Well,” Johnny glitched into your field of vision, leaned against a wall, looking unbothered. “So much for doing this quiet.”

With the alarms going off - there was no need for secrecy now. 

The third floor was smaller - only two rooms opposite one another in the short corridor. Placide had already unsheathed his machete and pushed past you wordlessly, the broad of his back disappearing towards one of the doors. 

You went to go after him - but someone was coming up the stairs. You turned around, releasing the safety of your gun. A lanky man with blaring red optics, gun raised-- 

Brains and blood ran down the stairs, optics now dark. One clean shot, and he fell down, tumbling down into the buddies following him. 

Placide appeared in the doorway, blood dripping off the machete. 

“Not here.” He grunted - unfazed by the uproar of alarms going off all around the two of you. 

Quick strides brought you over to the opposite door, testing it. Voices spoke on the intercom from the inside - and you were just about to start blasting away at the lock when Placide’s dark voice interrupted you. 

“Be ready.” He said, directly behind you. He grabbed the side of the door, caging you between his broad body and the hard metall, and forced it open with his bare fucking hands. “In, now.” 

The opening was small enough for you to push through - you had to do it sideways, but it was enough. It slowed you progress a bit as you squeezed, sucking in a breath harshly - Placide let the metal go the moment you were inside, handling the Maelstromer’s crawling up the third floor. 

Gun first, you pushed inside, and pulled your head back just in time for a bullet to swish past your head. It had just barely missed - behind you, the fried tech sputtered and sizzled, ruined. 

Round after round peppered around you - you threw yourself on the ground, looking for cover. The shooter was fucking crazy - laughing manically as you ducked behind an upturnt desk. 

“Eat shit, you fuckin’ rat!” He shouted over the telltale _clirks_ as the empty ammunition shells fell to the floor, the machine gun _lock-lock_ -locking as he tried to fire shots that weren’t there. 

He was outta juice. Not a moment passed - the next shot fired was yours. A full on hit in the shoulder sent the Maelstromer reeling backwards. 

His stumbling let you push further in, shooting a few extra rounds at him for good measure. He’d struggle reloading that thing with his shoulder like that. 

You saw a tall familiar figure move through the small gap in the door - Placide pushed inside, but with much more difficulty than you. 

“Placide!” You called out, sending another shot at the scout. “Finish him!”

If he griped over being ordered around he took it out on the Maelstromer. 

All around the room weapons and tech were littered around. It laid across the tables and hung from the walls, ammunition and fucking _grenades_ lying about like wrapping paper. There was just one computer shoved into the corner of the room - _bingo_. 

You focused on the terminal, hacking into the system. If this was the only other terminal in the building it meant that it had all the controls for the tech on the factory grounds. With the simple click of a button the turrets turned on - you started overriding the systems, taking control of them. It was easier through the main net - and soon, the steady stream of bullets and shouts coming from the downstairs told you it’d worked just fine. That should keep them busy downstairs.

A loud gurgling made you whip around from the computer. 

Placide had the Maelstromer by the throat, feet off the ground, crushing his windpipe with a single fist. You watched his bicep flex with the force, veins popping out from a tear in the arm of his coat. The other hand held his machete, covered in blood. The mantis blades of the Maelstromer hung uselessly by his sides. Placide was snarlig as the crushing of the man's windpipe persisted, blood mixed with a cybernetic esophagus poured out from his clenched fist. 

“Placide!” You shouted at him, motionning him over. The man would be dead sooner or later. 

His head turned towards you quickly - and he let go off the Maelstromer, throwing him to the side, hurrying towards you. He shook the machete, blood splattering onto the tech. 

One of the blades had grazed him. You grabbed at the tear in the coat, seeing red spill from the wound. You touched the cut, checking for any poisons festering in the wound. It didn’t look deep, either. The thick fabric his coat was made out of had done a good job of protecting him.

“Eyes up front.” A gloved hand grabbed at your chin, turning it towards the screen. His fingers were already traveling over the keyboard when you snapped out of your thoughts. ”This it?”

Your optics surveyed it, seeing the clients named. “Must be.”

“Putting it on a shard.”

You nodded, swallowing hard, checking the ammo of your gun. As you reloaded the sound of gunshots was already starting to echo, the turrets turning off as more and more reinforcements joined the warehouse. “How long do you need?” 

Placide snorted. “Shit set up. That they even managed to keep the turrets connected…”

“You’re a tech snob.” You gasped in mock surprise. “How long?”

“Two minutes if I hurry.” Placide wasn’t half as amused as you were with the situation, seeming more irritated by the second. You really had pushed his buttons by ordering him around. 

You raised a brow at him. “And if I buy you time?”

“I will get what you want - and then some.” His eyes were glowing, and you could positively see the gears in his head turning as his fingers deftly flew over the keyboard. 

What was the catch this time then? He wouldn’t give you extra in return for _nothing_ \- no, that was just not how things worked in NC. You considered just jacking in and taking the information you needed and leaving him. Fuck him, if he needed more time for extra currical activites for a raise from his boss that was on him. 

But if that extra info was what he’d been out to get - and he’d _share_ , with _you_. You weighed your options, curiosity weighing heavier and heavier with each passing moment. 

A gunshot shot ricocheted in the hallway, practically deciding for you.

“Deal, but only if you shake on it.”

The tapping of fingers on the keyboard stopped and Placide turned to where you were leaning by his side. The luminescent light from the screen played across his features .He took your hand, his large one encapsulating yours easily, a quick and steadfast shake. “Deal.”

It was your turn to have a smirk tugging at your lips - at least you’d have one win in the bag at the end of this.

The turrets were doing their job - keeping the Maelstromers busy while you snuck downstairs, moving as silently as you could, sneaking and taking them out one by one. They were busy deactivating the turrets while getting shot at, and it was easy work - until they spotted you. You pulled back into the cover as a brawler made it closer and closer to you, bat in hand. You got a few shots in on him but they ricocheted off him, the chrome and cybernetics embedded into his skin and bones like one big shield. At least one of them bounced off in the direction of one of his own, and so it didn’t feel completely pointless as you reloaded your gun for the third time, getting ready to pepper him again. He was getting dangerously close to you now, a swing of the bat almost catching your nose.

You were backing up the stairs now, seeking cover from the onslaught of the brawler, when Placide’s voice rang out to you. “V! We're done here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. 

Getting out was always easier than getting in. Placide had gotten a window open, holding it open as you jumped out, landing on a mountain of thrash. More than once had the copious amount of trash littered saved your ass when escaping gigs, you reflected as Placide landed beside you. 

Leading the way, you ran through the complex you had sneaked your way through. There was no time to hesitate - you ran towards where you’d parked your ride, jumping over a fence and trying to shake the pursuers. It wasn’t a long way, but you needed to shake them before getting in your car, so you pulled Placide with you into an alley. Pushing him behind you, you peaked out on the street as a couple of cars raced past you. If you sat tight for a while they’d be in the other end of town looking for you.

You hadn’t even turned around when Placide handed the datashard over.

“So you _can_ keep a deal,” you hummed at him, looking the shard over before finally popping it in and taking a look that it was a-okay. 

A harsh cut made you jump a little as you looked through the shard. He noticed, speaking up as the ones and zeros flew across your vision. “Tell your fixer to let a netrunner run those through.” 

“Thanks.” You pulled the shard out. The encrypted data was bound to get you a bonus - Wakako was nothing but grateful for a job well done, and a little extra seemed in order alright. 

Placide interrupted your train of thought with his baritone voice. “And now, you owe me for it.”

Aaand of course he’d pull some shit like this. 

“You’re really set on making me regret not blasting your ass the second you showed up, aren't you?” You groaned, exasperated. 

Placide pulled out a second shard. “I’ll keep the other one. Sell it back to them.” 

Now _that_ hadn’t been the favour you’d thought he’d hold over your head. 

“No, you won’t.” Your hand stretched out and grabbed at the shard, easily catching it. You hadn’t been kidding when you told him you were up to speed now. Placide seemed taken aback by the swiftness - but caught your hand as you tried to pull away. 

Clenched fist raised high above your head, his hand holding onto your wrist. With a sharp tug, he pulled you closer to him, pressing you tightly together. You stayed like that for a moment, neither one of you speaking another word while your chests sunk and rose in unison, eyes locked. That scent again, heady and heavy filled your senses - it made warmth spread in your limbs, pooling in your gut. Your other hand fisted in his shirt - _fuck_ , he was leaning in. 

“The client -” you started, not breaking eye contact with him, his hand was moving towards your face, cupping your chin while you spoke. “My fixer’ll know.”

His thumb pressed against your lower lip again, running along it, voice low in his chest, rumbling through him enough that you could feel it. “It will not be yours or Wakako’s problem when you’ve already handed it over. Let them think Maelstrom already made copies for selling.” 

You gave him a look of doubt. “You want me to fuck over my fixer? For what?”

“Consider it a favour then,” Placide said, lips almost touching yours. “That I don’t tell her you’ve been… compromised.”

“Fraternizing with the enemy, right?” The grin spreading across your lips held more mirth then you’d meant as you spoke. “Not like I haven’t before.”

When he finally pressed his lips to yours, all you could think about was how fucking perfect they felt against yours. 

This was not… the same as last time. Last time there had been some tension, like a balloon finally bursting after too much pressure. This was like slipping into a hot, much needed bath. Last time, he’d asked for permission to continue - he didn’t need to this time. You matched his kisses, letting yourself curve into him. It was easy to relax into Placide - to just let him deepen the kiss as much as he wanted, let him take how much he wanted just as long as he _kept_ touching you. 

This - this was much better than the dozen beers you’d planned for yourself that evening. 

Somehow he’d gotten the shards outta your hands and tucked them somewhere - but you were too busy craning your neck, tongue pushing past his lips. Your hands climbed along his shoulders, fingers slipping into his hair and racking your nails along his skull. 

Heart beating like a drum in your chest, letting Placide do whatever he wanted. Pushed into a brick wall, he groped you through your clothes. His lips left yours soon enough, instead pressing into your neck, while you pushed the coat off his shoulders, hands eager to explore. Last time, you’d barely seen a sliver of his skin and you drank it all now, watching the veins in his neck pulse, the way his lips plumped from the kiss.

A path of kisses from your clavicle to the lobe of your ear made you shiver, moaning softly into the night. You arched into him, feeling your nipples tightening and the same familiar warmth spreading everywhere. Placide was already tugging at your pants, shifting around your clothes to give him more access. He was greedy, fingers pushing and pulling every inch of skin he got hold of. Wandering hands pushed up your shirt and bra, cupping the meat of your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching the tender peak while you gasped from the sensation.

Finally, you got his coat pushed down his shoulder, reaching up and pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. You barely reached further from where you were standing. Instead, you let your fingers wander, sweeping over his pecs and sides, feeling the hard muscles rippling beneath. Slowly, you let your fingers just slightly touch the front of his pants, cupping the already hard length of him. You wrapped your fingers around it, feeling the outline of it. Placide awarded you with a grunt, sucking a mark hard into your neck. 

“Do we gotta do this _here_ ?” You breathed out, as Placide’s tongue swept over your pulse point, sucking and leaving small bites along your neck. You felt exposed, absolutely ruined for him. A panting, wet mess for him, clothes half hanging off your body while he was still fully clothed. “We’ll be _seen_.”

By your ear, Placide murmured. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“My ride’s o-over there-,” His tongue swirled over your nipple, still fondling it, a hand pushing past your waistband and cupping your pussy through your underwear, pressure applied to your clit. “A-ah, fuck it.”

“That's it,” neon signs lit up the very entrance of the alley, reflecting on one side of Placide’s face. It contoured it, the sharp edges of his nose, the lines across his forehead and the plump lips. He looked almost magical, colours reflecting off him like a prism. As if reprimanding you, he spoke into your skin in a half whisper. “You will need to be quiet this time.”

With that, he slipped a finger past your underwear and inside. You moaned, the need to be filled so fucking satiated with just one of his fingers.

Placide was humming into your skin, lips closing around your nipple again, worrying it with his teeth just the slightest. You gasped into the night, feeling him add another digit, sinking it down to the knuckle.

You fluttered around his fingers, face warming at the sound his fingers made as he started moving them, curling them upwards and grinding against your sweet spot. You were turning to putty in his hands, humping into the motions he made, legs almost shaking from the orgasm he was slowly but surely teasing out of you.

That anyone could just walk by and spot the two of you rutting against each other just made you more bold. A car drove by and you just knew you that anyone could see you with the slightest glance. It felt dirty, wanting him to fuck you for anyone’s prying eyes to see, even as the streets crawled with Maelstromers looking for you. 

Placide was still working to get you as exposed as possible for him, tugging so hard at your pants that you heard a seam rip, fingers deftly working you open for him. It wasn’t enough though - you wanted more. 

“Please-” breathless, you shoved at his shoulders, forcing Placide to stop and make eye contact as your digits quickly made short work of his belt. 

As if deciding instantly, Placide cut you off by grabbing you and picking you up as easy as a ragdoll. It hit you like a reality check just how strong he was, how large the circumference of his biceps really was. 

With a harsh grip under the junction of your thighs and ass - giving it a squeeze for good measure - he lifted you. Placide held you up completely with one hand, the other snagging in your bottoms, dragging them down. Catching on, you shook your leg free from the ripped seam in your pants and wrapped your legs around his waist. For a moment, he hitched you up and let you figure out the logistics - stabilizing your own weight against him and the wall, getting as comfortable as you could. 

He barely gave you a moment before pushing you down on his cock.

Your moan echoed among the brick buildings, head thrown back.

“You want to be found?” Placide let out a grunt, pulling back and sinking into you again, pushing into you further, deeper this time.

“N-no,” you were still unused to the stretch. He started moving immediately, pulling out and thrusting into you again, filling you to the brim. “You-you’re- ah!”

His hips slapped against yours, hands bruising in their grip on your ass. You held onto him, a hand tugging hard at his hair whenever a thrust would hit too hard, too deep. He was pistoning his hips upwards into you, gravity and his own hands tugging you down against him. You had no chance to recover for even a moment from the onslaught of his thrusts - he set the pace, fast and hard.

You whined into his shoulder, searching for any purchase against him. Your nails dug into his arms, feeling the muscles tense under your touch and at the strain of holding you up. Placide was so tightly compressed against you that you could hear every one of the moans he was trying to hide. 

Your fingers dug into his shoulders again - willing yourself to take the stretch of him. You pushed against him, feeling every inch of his skin you could reach. The dents along his skin, the elevations where his skin had scared after the tattoos that ran over his pecs and entire chest. You felt along them, tracing every line and pushing against his pecs. You wondered if they kept going down, on his arms and down on his legs, or if they were intricate designs only on his upper body. You’d seen them on other VDB’s and idly wondered what they meant and if his were any different from the ones you’d seen. 

You scraped your nails against his side and Placide shuddered, giving a thrust that was just a bit harder. He was hitting deep like this, and you felt grateful for the warmup he’d given you this time. The stretch was still there, a burning sensation overpowered by the fulfillment of being filled and fucked to your heart's content. Somehow, it felt shameful being this wet for him, this eager for him to fuck you like this. It struck you that Placide was letting out steam, being this rough with you - like you were his own personal stress ball to squeeze. 

Last time, he’d taken his time with you. Teased you to the brink and held you there, not letting you go over the edge until you’d _begged_ him. The thought of it made your cunt pulse. This wasn’t like last time though - rushed, having no other ulterior motive than to just get your rocks off. 

You reasoned that people did that - fuck their attempted murderers all the time, sure. 

Doing it twice though? 

Yeah, that was probably more unusual. 

Pulling his shirt upwards, you exposed his abs and the trail of dark hair leading towards where you were currently joined. You watched the slick, his cock sliding in and out easily, filling you up to the brim each time he bottomed out inside you. 

“I would’ve fucked you before- b-back in there-” Placide was picking up the pace so quickly, it was like getting the air punched out of your lungs. He was folding you double, pushing your knees upwards now. The roughness of the wall behind your dug into your back as he pistoned his hips upwards into you. The jostling of his jacket was all around you, guarding you from prying eyes, shutting the world out. “Don't care who sees.” 

Moaning at his words, you started kissing his neck, his earrings digging into your cheek as you moved to suck a mark into his pulse point. He was pulling an orgasm out of you quickly - the curve of him hit deep inside you, the closeness of him rubbing against your clit ever so often, teasing the orgasm closer and closer every time he bottomed out and hit you cervix. It didn’t matter how much he did it - you half-whimpered, half-moaned each time, not used to the sensation. 

Placide was muttering something into your shoulder - it sounded completely garbled, a different language spoken too quietly to let your tech process and translate it. He was getting close too - you could feel him pulsing inside you, his hips picking up the pace. 

When you didn't think he could go faster, he did. You were so tightly wound now, feeling yourself dancing on the edge. You kept sputtering little _pleases_ and _don’t stop’s_ into his skin as your fingers made their way between you, finally reaching your clit and rubbing in tight little circles. The wet smacking sounds of your union echoed in the alley, coupled with your whines and moans and Placides grunting. 

The intensity of it all doubled for you, fingers rubbing your clit, matching Placide’s harsh rhythm. It was as if something inside of you snapped - with a cry, you came on his cock. You pulsated in unison with his thrusts, fingers gripping his arms now, trying to steady yourself as the orgasm washed over you. 

“So fuckin’ wet when you cum, ah-” his balls slapped against your ass as you shook against him. Hostage, stuck between his harsh thrusts and the wall, he held you still in your squirming, trying to get away from the sensations of _too much_ that was approaching. You clung to him as he used you to find his own end. 

An unbidden sob left you - Placide snarled and grabbed the back of your neck, letting you squeeze onto him tighter. He centered you, forehead against yours. 

“Tell me- tell me where, V,” Placide moaned, chasing his own end while you shook and clenched all around him, tears running down your cheeks from the overstimulation. 

“Inside, please,” You clung to him still, breathless and spent, teeth finding his neck and moaning into his ear, goading on his orgasm. “I w-want it inside, _o-oh-_ ”

It sent him over the edge. Placide tried to muffle it but ended up pushing his groan into your hair, lips to your ear as he came. He grinded into you, hips stuttering, a clenched fist beating into the brick beside your head with a loud moan. Dust particles trickled down your shoulder, a cloud of it floating away as soon as it formed. 

His hips circled, riding out the orgasm. He was pulsating still, quick little thrusts punctuating every twitch of his cock inside you.

Both of you were panting, plastered against the wall. You felt everything at once - Placide softening inside you, the discomfort of being held like a ragdoll washing over you limbs, the steady pulse in the pit of your stomach from the abuse of your cervix. Slowly, Placide let his iron grip on your thighs recede, setting you down on shaky legs.

Arms slowly leaving your hold on him, you tugged down your shirt and bra, silently thankful that his coat hung around you like a large curtain. Stickiness coated the entirety of your being, hair stuck to the nape of your neck, sweat between your breasts, slick running down your legs. 

You shivered, feeling the drip between your legs and the cool night air sweeping along your legs. You hadn’t even caught your breath yet - did it really need to be like this everytime? You were breathless and shaking with aftershocks while he looked barely _moved_. 

Placide finally raised his head from where it was tucked into your neck. His thumb found your lower lip, pushing against it, watching you intently. The neon lights had changed - the ads going up endlessly in the sky shifting in colour, painting the alley and both your faces in harsh hues. 

“Y-you never told me what you wanted the info for.” Your voice was barely anything over a whisper now. It was like a need to be quiet now filled you, like you needed to do as much as possible to not be seen or heard by anyone closeby. 

“I did not.” The unsaid and _I plan to keep it that way_ hung between you until Placide started shrugging off his coat.

You blinked at him - unsure what he was doing but letting him wrap the almost comically large garment over your shoulders anyways. The tattoos _did_ run down his arms, you noted, eyes rolling over his form. This was probably the most undressed you’d ever seen him, you reflected. You swallowed, speaking once again. “How did you find out it was me who got the gig?”

“Word travels,” Placide replied, evenly. It was never that easy though. He’d known exactly where to look when. You raised a brow at him quizzically, motionning for him to go. You started to pull up your underwear and shredded pants, frowning at the split seams. These were your good pants. Placide followed suit, tucking himself away while he spoke. “Brigitte wants to keep an eye on you.”

Your brows furrowed in puzzlement. “Why?” 

With what had happened beyond the Blackwall, you figured that the VDB’s would leave you the hell alone. They’d gotten their way - you’d done the job in the GIM, got in their fucking icebath and led them beyond the Blackwall, met Alt, _yada yada_. What more could they want? 

“That thing in your head - could be useful.”

“Wow, your boyfriend’s rude.” Johnny’s voice glitched in somewhere in your mind and you wished he would leave.

“Tell Brigitte to fuck off for all I care.” You snorted, shaking your head in disdain. “She think that we’re chooms or something? What she want?”

Placide shrugged, his massive shoulders rolling with the movement. “Says she sees value in you that others would throw away.” 

Yeah, sure - _that_ was it. Brigitte - _hell_ , even Placide - didn't _want_ you. You knew that that wasn’t all of it. What they wanted was leverage. Placide had said so himself - you _owed_ him. 

You weren’t about to let them fuck you over again. “You know what that netwatch agent in the GIM told me? He told me the _truth_ . He spelled it out for me and I didn't believe him because I'd never trust a corpo-rat over people who’re like _me_.”

“Ah,” Placide said - it seemed to take him a moment to understand the way your thoughts had been developing. “You think we are the same.” 

“Are we not?” Fuck, you could probably tell him his whole fucking lifestory if you wanted to. Grew up in the streets, got pulled into a gang, got good at something and then stayed doing that ‘til you got flatlined. You’d heard it a thousand times before - anyone who grew up on the streets of NC knew it. 

“No,” Placide interrupted your train of thought. This time, it was his turn to sound disdainful. “You die. We survive. I am second in command because I do not leave loose ends.”

Your mood soured even further. “Yet your clearance didn’t even let you know that I had the biochip all along. Really was above your paygrade, wasn’t it? That why you gotta tag along on my gigs for extra eddies?” 

Placide looked more and more unhappy as you spoke, jaw setting dangerously. “You were never supposed to come back, but you did. As Brigitte said, we underestimated you. She wants to meet.”

Was this the reason why he had showed up here in the first place? He _had_ been following you. You snorted, anger still rising in your chest. “And all those people sent to do your bidding while you were holed up behind Agwe? They didn’t mean shit to you or Brigitte.”

“They had it coming.”

“Just ‘cause they didn’t have something to kickstart their brain from the frying you planted they _deserved_ to die?”

“No. That does not mean that they didn’t bring it upon themselves.” 

You snarled, shaking your head. “You _used_ me.” 

“You got what you wanted, did you not?” Placide slotted the shard into your hand for the second time that evening and this time it felt like making a deal with the devil. “Both then and now.”

“At what price, you fucking asshole.” You went to move away but Placide grabbed you, forcefully turning you towards him. Alarms went off in your head, telling you to fucking _run_.

You thrashed against him, pushing yourself away, half-screaming now. “What!? Upset because you can’t use me as a fucking attack dog to be put down when I start limping?”

“Don’t be so naive,” Placide snarled. What little patience he had for you was starting to run out. He caged you against the wall, holding you by the shoulder. “I do not feel remorse for doing what I believe is right for my people.”

“Your _gang_.” You spat back. Sure, Jackie had been the same way with the Valentinos. But he had fucking left them, realizing that being caught up in that world, where you were just supposed to listen and follow orders and not fucking think about anything other than your gang didn’t mean shit in the end. “Does it feel good knowing they’d feed you to the sharks the moment you fuck up?”

“You’ll find us more tolerant than that, girl.” Placide grabbed your chin again, tilting your face towards him, squishing your cheeks together with his grip. He locked his eyes with yours, searching your face. It felt as if he could read your every emotion - somehow, the grip he held over you let him do… this to you. You were still fuming, wanting nothing more than to just fuck off and never see his stupid face again. But you didn't move - not even as he slowly, as if to test the waters, leaned down, lips now so close to your own that you could almost taste him. He held you there for a moment, not doing anything but letting you marinate in uncertainty and anger, until he finally spoke. “Think about it.”

It broke the spell he’d put on you and you struggled, slapping away his hand from your face. 

“I’ll think about it when I don’t have ya fucking cum running out of me.” You spat, turning away and making fast strides towards your car. 

“Asked where you wanted it.” Placide called to you.

You flipped him off over your shoulder.

You got in the car and swung the door shut so fast you almost caught the coat in the door, speeding off to somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t in close proximity to any VDB’s. 

Those dozens of beers didn’t seem so bad now.

**Author's Note:**

> target audience was bigger than i thought for placide! anyways, hope u all had a good nye. i just have a lot of leftover creme brûlée.


End file.
